


charcoal

by pinchecacto



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, in which catra and bow HANG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25754524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinchecacto/pseuds/pinchecacto
Summary: She gets exactly what she wants. The sun has nothing on Adora, actually. This is why she feels a certain security around Bow. The sun doesn’t seem to have anything on him, either.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow & Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 177





	charcoal

Catra pushes through the fronds that poke at the soft whites of her eyes, feels the grass beneath her feet as she steps into the clearing.

It takes her less than a moment to realize she isn’t alone. When someone is here, someone other than her, the evidence is glaring regardless of the clarity of their presence. The rustle practically echoes across the lake, into the tree bark, comes up to the trees and shimmies down into Catra’s senses. Smell, hear, taste, feel. All numb and fall away here.

Except today.

It’s Arrow Boy. Bow, Catra corrects, but only in her head. Adora had called her nicknames endearing.

She basically controls you. A voice, chastising, rumbles throughout her mind. But Catra ignores it. Individuality has never been her strongsuit. She’d always focused her life around others and, in the darker moments, the lack of them. But she was learning, and she was improving. She knew it wasn’t true. Adora didn’t control her. If Adora controlled her, well. Things would have ended a lot differently.

Bow hasn’t noticed her yet, and that perhaps, is for the best. Catra needs a moment to keep herself from lashing out. She’d never been good at having other people in her space. Another thing she was learning about herself, lately.

This clearing was the quietest place in the Whispering Woods. Once the dust settled- the horror, the shock, the wonderment all turned back into some semblance of normalcy- it became clear that Etheria had, for lack of a better word, bursted to life. Everything moved, spoke, whispered, gave the woods back its namesake. Everything seemed to hum in a chaotic harmony that yes, was beautiful. But overwhelming as well. 

Catra had found this clearing a little after. After everything. She’d noticed the difference immediately. It was homesick, in a way. It seemed like it was yearning for what the rest of the woods had, unable to reach, stuck in silence. Catra felt the guilt, selfishness creep up and seep into the crooks and dips of her shoulder blades. 

She didn’t want to bring it home.

She liked it the way it was.

Catra felt she needed something- somewhere, where she could rest, where her mind could blank and her eyes could numb. It was as if the world taunted her sometimes, with its noise. Catra had always been sensitive to sounds, and with the way it crawled up her skin and into her jaw, it was perhaps the most uncomfortable Catra had ever been.

(Overstatement. It was by far not.)

This wasn’t the kind of thing she could tell Adora, though. Not Adora, with her brilliant smile and the way her eyes seemed to drip into grey pools of light. Not Adora, who felt nothing but pride at the noise. Not Adora, who wanted so badly to share that pride with Catra, to share everything with Catra.

Not Adora, who Catra loved far too much to burden.

A shift in the leaves brings Catra back to the present. Reminds her of her previous shock.

Bow turns around and his eyes land on her. They widen. 

“Catra?” It comes out as more of a question than an accusation. Catra gulps. Now that Bow’s found this corner, she’s aware of how likely it is that he’ll bring Adora here. Of how likely it is that Adora will heal it, and that it’s all for the better, and that the woods are happy within their jumble of voices, happier than this sad, quiet corner.

Catra chooses nonchalance.

“Hey, Arrow Boy. Funny seeing you here.”

It’s strange, almost. Bow looks caught. His eyes are wide with an emotion that couldn’t solely come from the shock of seeing Catra, an emotion that looks almost guiltily written across his face. He’s bent over what Catra now realizes is a book, which- What?

Bow stands. His hand comes to brace the back of his neck and he lets out a stuttered, awkward laugh. Grass crunches beneath his bare feet.

“Yeah. I guess it is.”

“What are you…” Catra finds her own self nervous, steps forward, and it creates quite the awkward back and forth between them. She forces herself to continue. “What are you doing-”

Bow cuts her off although it almost seems as if he didn’t expect himself to do so. “It’s quieter. Here.”

Catra feels her tail lower, her eyes relax, her shoulders slump. She’s not as surprised as she thinks she should be. “It is.”

“And I know that’s not fair-”

Catra shakes her head. “It’s not.”

“But sometimes I just need to… Get out of it all, y’know?”

Catra can’t help but laugh. “You? You want to get out if it all?” 

Although she tries not to, she revels in this shift in dynamic, This sudden change. She’s so used to Bow being the one who holds her cards in his hands, who can read her with a simple look. He’s just like that, Adora had explained.

It’s not as satisfying as she thought it would be. All he does is shrug. “Yeah. Sometimes it gets…” His eyes cloud, in search of the word.

“Overwhelming.” Catra supplies.

“Yeah,” Bow says with a laugh, and his eyes brighten slightly. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m supposed to be the guy who keeps it all together, y’know?”

Catra wouldn’t know what that’s like. She seems to break things apart more often. Bow keeps going.

“But everything is so loud lately. And it’s not bad, not at all. I mean- I’m happy.” And Catra can see from the flush on his face, from the way his eyes sparkle, that he is. She thinks she is, too. What a concept. “But, well.”

Bow takes the book in his hands, moves it forward to show Catra. She eyes it warily. History of Plumeria it reads, in a somewhat royal font on the front. It’s thick- not as thick as some she’s seen, but thick enough, and an interest sparks in her mind. She’s been dawning on this part of her lately- this part of her that wants more than anything to know.

“History of Plumeria?” Catra says, instead of ripping the book from his hands and running off with it.

“Yeah. From my dads’ library.”

Catra quirks an eyebrow. Bow’s face turns priceless.

“You don’t know what a dad is?” He seems shocked, comically so. Catra would hate to disappoint him. Read: She wouldn’t.

“I know what a dad is,” Catra hisses, but there’s no bite to it. “I just didn’t know you had any. Or that they… own a library.”

Catra’s own voice betrays her. Bow lights up once again. “Do you want me to… Show you?”

“No!” Catra yelps, an immediate response, before calming herself. She knows better than to react like that. “No, Arrow Boy, I don’t want you to take me to your dads’ magical library.”

Bow snorts. He doesn’t seem offended at all. “It’s not magical.”

“Whatever,” Catra huffs, wanting more than anything to move on. “Why are you even reading it anyways? I thought you were like, Arrow Boy.”

Bow turns sincere, albeit with a slight chuckle. “I guess I am. But I’m still my dads’ son, you know. And this stuff was like my…Bedtime stories, growing up.”

“Sounds boring.” Catra can’t help but retort.

Bow allows it. “It was. But it was also to get me to sleep, so.”

They fall into a silence. It’s uncomfortable. The fronds of grass beneath Catra’s feet tickle the soft pads on the bottom of them. The tired lap of the lake sounds like a ticking clock. They stare. 

“Would you…” Bow breaks the silence with a breath, nods to the smushed patch of grass he’d been sitting on earlier. “Would you wanna read it with me?”

Catra softens immediately, unwillingly. She isn’t used to this. To being offered friendship and feeling this way. She thinks of Scorpia, in this moment. Thinks of how they could’ve been if she’d said yes to everything Scorpia wanted from her. Well, everything except-

“Yeah. Sure.” Catra shrugs, pads over to the grass and plops down. “Nothing else to do anyways.”

“No,” Bow says, and it’s blissful, this lack of responsibility, at least for now. There’s a lot that has to get done, but for once, none of it falls on Catra’s shoulders. He sits next to her and opens the book. “There isn’t.”

-

Catra blinks groggily, her mouth opening into a yawn that immediately leads to her arms and feet stretching out in front of her, and hitting something. Her head sags to the side, suddenly.

“Aw,” Comes an all too familiar, irritating voice. “You even sleep like a cat.”

“Shut up,” Is all Catra can manage in her tired state. “How long was I out?”

“Not long,” Bow says, and Catra notices he’s right next to her, and notices that her cheek still feels warm from the heat of his skin. She’d fallen asleep on his shoulder.

Fuck.

“Did we finish the book? The last thing I remember is the fourteenth Plumerian king denouncing his throne, or, whatever.” Catra looks away, her face hot. She wants to beg him not to tell anyone.

“Oh, yeah,” Bow laughs. “That part always made me fall asleep too.”

“Whatever,” Catra repeats herself, and stands, stretching her arms behind her head and letting out a frustrated groan. “This was stupid.”

Bow stands as well, turns so he’s facing her. His expression is hopeful, honest. “I don’t think it was.”

For whatever reason, in that moment, the beauty within the clearing strikes Catra. It’s probably the smallest secluded area in the Whispering woods, housing a sad excuse for a lake that was likely brothers with a puddle, and a path of grass. Trees surrounded them on all sides except the entrance, which was strangely blocked by fronds of tallgrass. The sun didn’t touch much here, except dipping into the middle of the lake and spreading scarcely around the clearing.

It’s beautiful. But dreary.

Everything is less vibrant than it should be. The trees are a dull green, the bark soggy to the touch, and the grass frays beige at the edges. It’s dying, and Catra is letting it. Bow is too.

“Why don’t you tell Adora? About this place?”

Bow startles at the question. He takes in a breath. The woods are calm, still. Dreadful. Bow’s breath turns into a laugh before he lets it out. “I guess I’m selfish.”

Catra nods. Understands. She’s selfish, too. She’s always been selfish. That’s the problem. “We should tell Adora.”

Bow gives her a brilliant, genuine smile. “Yeah. We probably should.” 

Catra doesn’t know how to react to that. She never would. Her relationship with praise was complicated, is complicated. She feels it cloud her mind, like mist on a downcast day. It flushes her uncomfortably, makes her want to take it all back and do better next time. She wishes she knew.

She never does.

She wishes she could grab Bow’s stupid magnifying glass arrow from his holster, wishes she could use it to look into his mind and see, wishes she could know if the appraisal comes from pity or admiration.

But for now, she looks to the side. “Yeah. Let’s… Get out of here.”

Bow nods. He leads the way, graciously. Catra may not know but Bow. Bow always does.

-

“You know,” Bow turns to her on the walk back. His eyes are often like crushed charcoal, dark with an irregular shine. They’re brightest when he gets like this. “The offer still stands.”

Catra scrunches her brow in irritated confusion. “What offer?”

“My dads’ library,” Bow’s expression becomes surprisingly soft. Catra knows he’s likely thinking about his family. She doesn’t have enough energy to envy him. The woods are loud again, now. She swears she can barely hear him. “It’s quiet there. If you need to… get away from all of it.”

The allusion to their previous conversation isn’t lost on Catra. She finds herself confused. “If your dads’ library is so quiet, why even go to the clearing?”

Bow laughs, surprisingly, his charcoal eyes burning in the sun. “I don’t know. I’ve never really been a genius like them.”

Catra rolls her own eyes at that. It’s not true, but she doesn’t say that. She can tell by the quirk of his brow that he doesn’t really mean it, anyways. Once again, she feels herself soften, the offer truly sinking in. It was definitely alluring. An endless source of knowledge. “I guess I could come by sometime. If I’m not too busy.”

“So, basically, any time.” Bow finishes his sentence off pointedly. They both know the calm after the storm leaves them with more free time than they know what to do with. 

“Yeah.” Catra aquieses, stepping in front of him, continuing their journey. “Any time.”

“Great!” Bow sounds all too excited at the prospect. Catra can’t bring herself to regret it. “By the way, what kind of tea do you prefer?”

-

Catra trudges slowly through the halls of Bright Moon’s magnificient castle thing. She found it amusing that the princesses, most of them at least, lived this way, and then dared to oppose an oppressor who wanted to as well.

Horde Prime had been much more than that. But Catra felt her point still stood. 

She and Bow had come to the agreement that Catra would be the one to break the news to Adora. Much to her chagrin. She often found it tiring, being in trouble with Adora. It drained her. Never depleted her love, though. Nothing would, at this point.

She finds Adora in her- their room, bent over various maps. She looked frazzled, unkempt, her ponytail falling halfway loose and the idiotic puff of hair on her head coming undone and falling over her face.

She was always, without a doubt, the most gorgeous thing Catra had ever seen.

She doesn’t notice Catra, not at first, too enraptured in her cartography. Catra has a feeling that it has less to do with reparations and more to do with genuine interest. Adora got like this, at times. She fixated on one aspect of the world they lived in, something new, exciting, captivating, at least to her. It was endearing, but not when it kept her girl from her basic needs.

“Have you been looking at maps all day?”

Adora perks up immediately, and it strikes Catra, because the expression on her face will never fail to sink like icy shock into Catra’s veins.

It’s relief. Plain and simple.

Catra knows they don’t need each other. That had perhaps been the problem at the start- that they did. Codependency was malevolent, angry, presented itself in destructive ways, ended worlds, etc.

But they don’t now.

Still. It’s nice to want and feel wanted. And to see someone like Adora, with all her self-sacrificing, “I am the hero and therefore I don’t matter” bullshit, with want, with love, written all over her face, well. It’s relief for Catra as well.

The moment dissipates, but never ends. It will never end while they’re around each other. The world seems to beat in time with their hearts. And why wouldn’t it? They’d saved it.

“No,” Adora breathes out, and the breath ends in a husky laugh. She obviously felt tired, despite the somewhat restful sleep they’d gotten the night before.”I ate too.”

“Oh, yeah.” Catra falls into this dynamic like she always does, so easily, so smoothly. It was sometimes hard to believe that they’d lost it. But they had. And Instead of getting it back, they’d created a new one- an easier one, a healthier one. “I noticed frantic Bright Moon cooks attempting to restock in time for dinner.”

“You’re the worst,” She lifts herself up now, walks over to Catra, drapes her arms over her shoulders, presses into her.

Catra feels giddy, often, at how much Adora seems to want to touch her. At how Adora knew how to do so. She knew never to be too gentle, never to make a touch a brush, never to make it fleeting. So when Adora presses, she does so firmly, reminding her that this isn’t some illusion. It isn’t going to turn sinister, or manipulative. She’s turned touch on it’s head, all through the press of her forehead to Catra’s. Catra uses her arms to undo Adora’s ponytail, wraps the band around her own wrist.

Catra isn’t dull, though, or all too modest. She knows she brings a specific comfort to Adora too, through the press of her thumbs into Adora’s jaw. Because Adora has waited far too long for her to be real in her arms.

“You smell like shit, babe.”

Adora laughs with her entire body at that, her nose brushing against Catra’s in the motion. She pulls closer, teasingly. Catra doesn’t mind. Adora could jump into a vat of garbage, and she wouldn’t mind.

“Sorry. Didn’t have time to do much today.”

“I can see.” Catra remains sarcastic, with a certain sincerity she only gets around Adora. 

“Shut up,” It’s muffled against her shoulder as Adora dips, pulling Catra fully into a hug, her fingers making small indents into Catra’s back. For half a second, Catra flashes to not too long ago, with Adora bent over her, doing the same, this time accompanied with sobs. But she’s back quickly afterwards, grounded by her touch. “You know how I get.”

“I do.” And she does, perhaps better than anyone. Just as Adora knows her. Catra stiffens.

“What’s up?” Adora brings herself back up to look Catra in the eyes, her grey-blue ones dripping with concern. Catra is reminded of what she came here to say.

“I…” Catra gulps, looks away from Adora, is ashamed. It surrounds her throat hotly. “I have to tell you something.”

The reaction is small, but immediate, and devastating. Adora pulls away just slightly, and the pressure within her fingers decreases, and Catra yearns, wants, just like she always does. “It’s not bad, Adora.”

This does not seem to offer any comfort. “What is it?” 

“There’s a, uh.” Catra coughs. Can’t bare to look at her. She knows Adora doesn’t appreciate the dramatics. She can’t help it. “An area, in the Whispering Woods, that wasn’t healed after the whole… Heart thing.”

“Oh,” And there’s that relief again, although it’s nowhere near the same magnitude as before. “That’s all?”

“Well I… I knew about it.” Catra admits, turns her head further away from Adora. The shame continues its heated assault down her collarbone. “I didn’t tell you. I don’t know why, I just-”

“Needed somewhere to go?”

The shock is what causes Catra’s head to turn towards Adora, meet her eyes again, see the smile that makes all of her features shine alongside the sun. She doesn’t look angry. She looks relieved again, this one echoing every moment they’d met before. 

“Yeah.” It’s all that can leave Catra’s mouth. She doesn’t know if it’s her right to tell Adora about Bow as well. It doesn’t seem fair to bring him into this, not now. Not with Adora standing in front of her, no blame in her eyes, only love and an ebbing confusion.

“It’s okay. I mean, I’m still gonna have to fix it,” Adora’s voice bridges on comical, and she gets that familiar, dumb look in her eyes. “But I’m glad you told me.”

Catra retracts her previous thought. Bow can be involved, a little bit. If only to see the happiness Adora gets when Catra recounts her ventures with others. “Bow wanted me to.”

She gets exactly what she wants. The sun has nothing on Adora, actually. This is why she feels a certain security around Bow. The sun doesn’t seem to have anything on him, either. “Bow?”

“Yeah,” Catra doesn’t offer an explanation, Adora doesn’t ask her, even though she can see the curiosity in Adora’s eyes.

“I’ll fix it tomorrow,” Adora says, yawns, drapes into Catra like she’s the universe. “Let’s sleep now.”

Catra walks with Adora over to the bed, and is reminded of Adora’s own dramatism. Perhaps it’s that, or her weird obsession with Catra supporting her weight. Either way, Catra decides to have fun with it, picks Adora up “bridal-style” (she’s not quite sure what that actually means), revels in the little squeak she lets out, in the flush beneath her eyes

“Yeah. Let’s.”

**Author's Note:**

> hello kingssss...... i am biluz on tumblr come talk to me i promise im cool and funny and nice. i hope u enjoyed


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